Another Life
by ZephyrToo
Summary: Nick needs to get with the program. Connor helps him out. Missing scenes from episode 2x02.
1. Chapter 1

**Another Life**

by ZephyrToo

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Notes: Actual dialog from various episodes is in italics and quotes.

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**Chapter 1**

"_Dinosaurs? Oh come on. Why am I here, really?"_

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Professor Cutter watched Lester and the others walk away and the panic attack hit him like a thunderbolt. His heart started beating nineteen-to-the-dozen and he broke out in a cold sweat. He didn't know these people, he didn't know this place. For God's sake, he didn't even know where he lived in this timeline. What the Hell was he supposed to do now?

He glared at the glass and concrete around him. It made him feel like a specimen in a zoo. Like everyone was watching him, just waiting for him to finally, completely, go off the rails. Insane. He knew he'd pretty much gone over the line when they'd been introduced to Jenny Lewis. Couldn't help himself. He wanted Claudia back. Wanted his world back. Wanted Ryan and his men to still be alive, and so desperately wanted to be ignorant of Helen's 'unfinished business'. To know again that Stephen was someone he could trust.

The world wobbled and he grabbed for the railing beside him. He tried to take deep breaths, even as part of his brain reminded him that he hadn't had any food or sleep for over 24 hours. The worst 24 hours of his life. No wonder he was losing it.

Suddenly Connor was there, supporting his elbow.

"Whoa. Easy now. Take it easy Professor." Connor's eyes searched his face, then his mouth firmed as he evidently came to a decision. "Come on, let's get you somewhere where you can sit down for a minute."

"OK. I'm OK." Cutter took a couple of deep breaths and let himself be guided along the walkway towards a branching corridor. Connor's look of disbelief made Cutter's mouth twitch in a grimace of acknowledgment. Alright, so he wasn't OK. He knew he was shivering, and he knew Connor could feel it. Probably walking like a drunk too. God, he felt old.

"Right, and I'm the tooth fairy. Pleased to meet you." Connor's trademark grin was there and gone in a flash.

His care and concern were touching. He constantly scanned their surroundings to see if they we being observed, and his support of Cutter was as subtle as possible considering he was the only reason Cutter hadn't fallen on his face yet.

"This way, your office is just down here," Connor whispered as they passed offices full of people he didn't recognise.

Cutter's steps faltered. He had an office here? Here? What had happened to his office at the University? Did he even have a job there still?

"What? What did I say?" Connor was starting to sound a bit panicky himself. His glance ricocheted up and down the corridor as if searching for a predator.

"N-Nothing. Never mind. Where's that ch-chair you promised me?" Cutter tried to smile. He knew it was feeble, but it was the best he could do right now. Talking like a drunk as well. Not good.

Finally Connor steered him into a room at the end of the corridor. It was opposite a fire exit and therefore not overlooked. Cutter was grateful for small mercies. There was far too much glass in this place. He loathed it already.

Cutter made for the first chair he laid his eyes on, which happened to be behind a desk. Connor grabbed his arm more firmly and swung him around 90 degrees. "No, over here." Thank God, a sofa. Or at least, what passed for a sofa in modern-day office Hell. Tucked into a corner opposite the desk, it was black, padded and inviting. With Connor's help he staggered over and all but collapsed onto it.

Much to his relief, the world went away.

- - - - - - -

TBC...

- - - - - - -


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

"_Don't go. Stay. I think this is a mistake. I've got a really bad feeling about this."_

"_It's gonna be fine. I'll see you soon."_

:

"Cutter?"

Someone was calling his name, and it wasn't Claudia, damn it. "Wha'?"

He'd promised that he'd see her soon and now she didn't even exist. It was his fault. Something he'd done, or not done, in the past. It had to be the biggest cosmic joke of all time.

"Come on, Professor. I've got snacks. You really should try and eat something." The owner of the voice was shaking his shoulder insistently.

They'd kissed with a passionate intensity he hadn't experienced in years. What he wouldn't give to have seen Helen's face right then. Must have been priceless. Hell, Claudia had taken _him_ by surprise, never mind Helen. "Mmm."

"Cutter?" Another shake.

Bitch. Stephen wasn't wrong there. He'd resisted the idea as long as he could, trying to give his wife the benefit of the doubt. But he couldn't deny it any longer - everyone else was right and he was wrong. She really was the enemy. A wannabe Queen Bitch Of The Universe. Another cosmic joke. Thoughts of Helen finally got him moving. He really didn't want to think about her. Time to get up.

"Alright, alright. Give me a minute." He slowly levered himself upright, then immediately leaned forward clutching his head. His skull was pounding and his mouth was pasty. "My God, how much did I have to drink last night?" He cracked open his eyelids and started back at the image of Connor's face floating in front of him. The sudden movement aggravated his stiff neck. "Ow."

Connor laughed. "No such luck, I'm afraid. You passed out on me earlier. Well, not _on_ me, obviously." Humour turned to worry. "Anyway, I think it was a combination of low blood sugar, dehydration and shock. You went out like a light. Scared the pants off me, to be honest." He turned and picked up something from behind him, holding it out to Cutter. "Come on. Water first, then food. There's aspirin if you want it."

Cutter blindly held out his hand for the glass, then downed the contents in one as soon as it was in his grasp. He leaned back on the sofa with his eyes closed. "Aspirin. Now," he ordered, holding out the glass in what he hoped was the right direction. He was willing to risk getting stomach ulcers if it stopped his head from splitting open.

Another glass of water, this time accompanied by a couple of painkillers, and he couldn't put off facing the world any longer. This world.

"How long have I been asleep?" He still felt tired, and Connor didn't look much better. He had the beginnings of dark smudges under his eyes. Cutter realised that he wasn't the only one who'd had a really long day – the whole team had. "Did you get any sleep yourself at all?"

"About 6 hours, and yeah, a bit. Then I woke up ravenous and went in search of sustenance. Brought some back for you. Better eat it quick, I'm still hungry," Connor joked and stood up, moving to sprawl on the sofa next to Cutter, a mug of tea in hand.

Cutter realised Connor had been sitting on a coffee table in front of the sofa. On it was a half-empty bottle of water, a bottle of aspirin, and a tray containing a plate of sandwiches, a packet of crisps, some chocolate bars, an apple, and another mug of tea. His insides chose that moment to make some obscene gurgling noises.

Connor grinned at him. "I think someone's trying to tell you something."

- - - - - - -

TBC...

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	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3**

"_You didn't have a clue who Leek was then did you?"_

"_No."_

:

"Where are Abby and Stephen?"

"Huh?" Connor blinked then yawned, moving to sit more upright.

Cutter realised that Connor had started to doze off while he'd been eating. Connor had been right. He was feeling 100 percent better after working his way through everything that had been on the tray. Not that that was saying anything much. Maybe he shouldn't have eaten that much chocolate though. Exhaustion combined with the impending sugar high really wouldn't be a good combination.

"Abby and Stephen?"

"Abby took him home. His foot was turning into a balloon." Connor mimed the swelling of Stephen's foot with his hands.

They'd stopped at a hospital on the way back from the shopping centre so that Stephen could be treated for the raptor bites on his foot. Luckily his heavy boots had prevented serious damage, but it was still messy and painful. They'd had to concoct a story about a stray Alsatian dog when the doctor got too inquisitive. Two hours in the A&E department, then Stephen had to be checked out again by the ARC's medics when they got back. No wonder he'd been grumpy with Jenny Lewis.

'Serves him right,' Cutter thought uncharitably, then immediately felt guilty for thinking that. Stephen was the one who'd stopped him from throwing his life away in the Cretaceous. Without so much as a water bottle he wouldn't have lasted long enough to even find another anomaly –assuming he'd managed to keep clear of a couple of pissed-off raptors in the first place.

If he was stuck here, in this altered timeline, then he needed more information. He needed to be able to function in this world, otherwise people really would think he'd gone ga-ga.

"Tell me about the ARC. When did we move in here?"

"About a month after the first anomaly. The building's owned by the Ministry of Defence. Apparently they used to test tank weapon sights in here, or something like that. When they moved out they refurbished it and were going to let it out to the private sector..." Connor caught Cutter's look of impatience and hurriedly finished, "Anyway, when it turned out that you were right and the first anomaly wasn't just a one-off, Lester commandeered it."

"And Leek?"

"We bumped into him at the first anomaly in the Forest of Dean. He's Lester's flunky, and our boss. Sort of." Connor lowered his voice, and leaned closer. "The guy gives me the creeps, to be honest. Don't know why, he just does. Don't think anybody likes him really. I know you don't. Didn't. The other you. The previous…"

"I get it," Cutter interrupted. "This stuff would give me a headache if I didn't have one already."

"Tell me about it," Connor retorted. "I mean, are we talking about a single timeline that's been altered, parallel universes, or alternate dimensions?

"If it is just a single timeline, how much damage does it take to alter that timeline? For all we know, using up a bit of oxygen and leaving behind some carbon dioxide may be enough. And what about bacteria and viruses? We could start a flu epidemic and wipe out whole species. The creatures would have no immunity.

"And what about the whole kill 'em or catch-and-release question? How do we know that the creatures that come through aren't meant to die here? That it's us returning them to their own era that causes a change for the worse? Or that them coming through causes a change that can only be undone by us sending them back? The timeline could be changing constantly and we have no way of knowing that it's happening."

Connor finally registered Cutter's look of horrified fascination, and grinned nervously. "Sorry, Professor. The perils of being a massive sci-fi fan. Sometimes I think my brain needs to take a long vacation somewhere warm and sunny. I've heard Hawaii's nice this time of year."

Suddenly Connor was overtaken by a huge yawn, which he tried to stifle with his hand. "Sorry, still a bit tired."

Cutter's only reply was a yawn of his own. Then they both yawned in unison, causing both men to chuckle.

"On that note, I think it's time we got out of here," Cutter said. "I don't suppose you happen to know where I live?"

- - - - - -

TBC...

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	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4**

"_I just want to help."_

"_You did a good job."_

:

It wasn't until he stood up that Cutter realised that his belt was undone, he wasn't wearing any shoes, and his coat was lying on the floor where it had obviously fallen off him when he'd woken up. He leaned down to pick it up and found his shoes underneath. He glanced questioningly at Connor.

Connor had backed up towards the door and looked as if he wanted to make a run for it. "You were out cold - wouldn't wake up. I was just trying to make you more comfortable," he said, nervously shifting from foot to foot. "You know, basic first aid and all that," he babbled. "Make sure the patient's circulation isn't restricted. Keep them warm…"

Cutter nodded, "Yeah. Thanks." He sat down to put his shoes on, then stood and fastened his belt and grabbed his coat. When he looked up again, Connor still looked uncomfortable. He shrugged into the coat and approached the young man, clasping his shoulder firmly. "Really, Connor. Thank you for looking after me."

Connor's smile of relief and pride was a sight to see, and as Cutter let go he realised he didn't give Connor enough credit. The mistakes of youthful enthusiasm tended to overshadow the fact that the boy had a first-class mind, and a deep commitment to the project and his team mates.

Cutter stuck his head out of the doorway and looked around. He realised he didn't have a clue where he was and turned back to Connor. "So, where do we go from here?"

Connor's only response was a confused "Huh?" as he squeezed past into the corridor.

"How do we get to my car? Up, down, sideways…?"

:-:-:-:-:

As they approached the vehicle, Cutter could feel the panic starting to rise again - heartbeat increasing and body trembling. It was stupid. He was going home. There should be nothing to fear there, he knew. But logic couldn't overcome his most basic instincts. He was an intruder, an impostor. He didn't belong here, he knew that too.

He couldn't drive like this, he'd kill them both.

With a shaking hand he pulled the keys from his pocket. "Here," he said, throwing the keys to Connor, "you're driving."

Connor's face was a picture. He hadn't been allowed to drive the big Hilux before. "Oh, wow," he breathed, eyes alight with eagerness.

"Just remember - if you break it, you're paying for it," Cutter couldn't resist adding as he climbed into the passenger seat.

"Right. No breaking." Connor's attempt to look serious was undermined by the big grin that kept trying to shine through. As he got behind the wheel he realised what he'd just said. "I mean, lots of braking, no crashing," he corrected hurriedly.

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TBC...

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	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter 5**

"_Come on, Professor. You can't go flaky on us now."_

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Five minutes of seat adjusting and gear crunching, and a reminder to turn on the headlights, and they were on their way.

Cutter tried to give Connor some time to get used to driving the truck before bothering him with more questions, but his panic attack was about to join forces with a sugar rush and he desperately needed a distraction.

"What happened to my job at the University? Do I still work there?"

Connor shook his head without taking his eyes off the road. "You're on sabbatical for a year, supposedly working for some government science policy committee. The University didn't want to lose you, but I heard Lester offered to make a substantial contribution to the buildings fund, or something. Your office is still there but it's been closed up. As far as I know, you haven't been there since we moved into the ARC."

"Did they get a substitute?"

"Yeah. A woman called Doctor Marian Kidbrooke – she's a marine zoologist, got her doctorate at Bangor. It's her first teaching post." Connor glanced briefly at Cutter, grinning. "You promised to deck the Dean if he gave Kidbrooke your office, by the way."

Cutter stared out of the side window, and tried to keep his tone neutral. "And Stephen?" He hadn't had much time to reflect on Helen's revelation. Too much had happened in too short a time for him to get much further than bewilderment and anger. Just the thought of it made him want to hit something. He jammed his hands between his knees instead.

Connor shifted uncomfortably. "Where you go, Stephen goes. You were pretty insistent about that." Sotto voice, he added, "At the time."

Cutter ignored the not so subtle comment on his private life, and ploughed on. "What about you?"

"I'm taking a year out as well. As far as the University's concerned I'm getting practical experience working for you as a research assistant - when you're not stuck in some stuffy policy meeting, obviously. Not far off really," Connor mused.

Outrage finally made the connection between panic and too much sugar, and Cutter exploded. He couldn't help it. "Are you stupid, or what?"

Conner jumped, shocked at the outburst. The sudden movement caused the truck to swerve and he only just avoided side-swiping another motorist.

"You know how important it is! You want to mess up the rest of your life in order to chase dinosaurs, is that it?" Cutter ranted, as the sound of a car horn faded into the distance.

Connor said nothing, his knuckles white on the steering wheel. He checked the traffic around them before pulling over to the side of the road.

"Well?" Cutter demanded.

Whatever response he might have been expecting, an angry Connor waving an accusing finger in his face wasn't it. "You promised… You promised you wouldn't bring this up again," Connor hissed, his other hand scrabbling for the door handle. He was out of the truck and gone in a flash, leaving Cutter doing a fine impression of a goldfish.

--

TBC

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	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter 6**

"_Silly arse."_

:

Good Christ, what had he done now? The anger vanished as fast as it had come, leaving him feeling like a deflated balloon. Cutter slumped forward, hands fisted in his hair in frustration. He'd been a stupid selfish idiot.

Connor was his student, his colleague, and well on his way to becoming a friend. He deserved better. Much better. He was the only one who seemed to truly believe Cutter's story – a touchstone for his sanity. It was Connor who had intervened to prevent him from making a complete fool of himself, and Connor who had taken it on himself to make sure that he was OK afterwards.

Cutter himself had barely begun to come to terms with his situation, could scarcely comprehend the enormity of it. Connor said he believed, but did he truly understand what it meant? What it was like to be thrown into another life with little hope of reprieve?

He knew he needed to apologise, to at least try and explain.

:-:-:-:-:

Cutter stepped down from the cab and looked around for his errant saviour.

Connor was standing behind the truck, arms wrapped around himself and head bowed - a shadowy outline of hurt and dejection.

Resting a shoulder against the cab, Cutter kept his distance. "Connor, I'm sorry. I really am," he said softly.

The figure stiffened, but otherwise ignored Cutter's olive branch, keeping his back turned.

"I look around and see so much that is familiar to me. It feels normal, it feels right. Then something happens that I'm not expecting and it's like walking into a minefield. Suddenly nothing's familiar anymore and I don't know which way to jump."

He paused, assessing Connor's reaction. He hadn't moved, but at least he was listening.

"I've only been in this timeline, this reality, or _whatever_ you want to call it, for not much more than a _day_. I'm not the Cutter you knew, and you're not the Connor I knew."

Cutter could now see Connor's face in profile against the street lamps, but he remained silent.

"It was wrong of me to make assumptions about something that happened before I got here. Whatever happened between you and that Cutter is in the past and none of my business. Although," he added wryly, "I'd appreciate it if you could at least tell me about it, someday soon, so that I don't step on that particular landmine again."

A faint snort indicated that Hell would probably freeze over first, but at least Connor was facing him.

Now it was Cutter who turned away, leaning back against the truck. "In the last twenty four hours I've seen good men die, been chased by big scary monsters, screwed up the timeline, found out my wife was having an affair - with my best friend no less, and discovered someone I care about very, very much no longer exists. As I'm sure you can appreciate, I'm having a _really_ bad day." His legs folded and he slid down to sit on the pavement. Every muscle ached from the constant tension in his body and he just wanted to go home. "I'm sorry I took it out on you," he finished.

- - - - - - - -

TBC

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	7. Chapter 7

**Chapter 7**

"_Can I say something?"_

:

Cutter rested his arms on his knees and stared at the ground in front of him. He'd said all he'd wanted to say and now it was up to Connor. He couldn't remember when he'd last been this exhausted and hoped they'd come to some resolution soon.

Silence reigned for nearly a minute before a voice drifted out of the darkness. "You know what they say about the word 'assume' don't you?"

"Aye", said Cutter, laughing quietly.

"It makes an 'ass' out of 'u' and 'me'," they both chorused.

Footsteps approached and then Connor was crouching beside him. "I'm sorry too," he said with some chagrin, "I didn't think about what it must be like for you. Like, 'Stranger In a Strange Land' and all that."

"More like 'Alice Through the Looking Glass'," Cutter interjected.

Connor shrugged, not wanting to get into a debate over the most apropos literary reference. "Anyway... I just wanted to say that you weren't the only one making assumptions. I guess we both forgot who we were talking to." He paused then held out his hand determinedly. "Friends?"

Cutter shook his hand firmly, and nodded. "Friends," he said, then added, "now be pal and help me up."

It wasn't long before they were on the road again.

:-:-:-:-:-:-:

Connor was handling the big truck smoothly and Cutter found himself getting drowsy now that he didn't need to watch Connor's every move. A comfortable silence reigned and he noticed that they were passing through an area that looked familiar. If he still lived in the same place then he'd be home soon.

He couldn't suppress the shudder that ran through him when he remembered that it wasn't his home, that it belonged to the other Cutter. He would be a trespasser there.

"Professor? You OK?" Connor asked with some concern, trying to watch the road and keep an eye on Cutter at the same time.

"'m fine," Cutter lied. He opened the window a little and the draught of cold air made him somewhat more alert. There was still so much he needed to know, and talking would help keep him awake. "Tell me more about the ARC. What do we do there? Working hours, departments, personnel, salary, all that stuff."

"Nominally we work nine-to-five, Monday to Friday, but obviously we're on call 24/7. Mostly we do research - creatures that've come through, animals and plants seen on the other side, the anomalies themselves…"

"So essentially we just sit around trying to keep ourselves occupied until we get notified of another anomaly," Cutter commented cynically.

"Basically, yeah. There's whole teams of people looking into those things. The ARC has several labs, as well as communications, security, and military people. There are a couple of small admin departments too. About 150 people all together, including evening and night shifts."

"How many of them am I supposed to know?"

"Mostly department heads and the science staff, I think. I'll give you a proper tour and point out a few people when we get back there," Connor offered.

Cutter nodded. As a university professor he was used to memorizing the names and faces of dozens of new students every year. It wouldn't take him long to get up to speed with the ARC personnel.

"Lester wanted to put us all on the civil service pay scale," Connor continued, "but when you found out how bad the civil service pay is, especially for juniors, you went ballistic. Lester backed down and we all get paid on the University's pay scale. Payday's last working day of the month. We also get free private medical cover, but no life assurance. Job's considered too high risk."

"What about paperwork?"

"Huh?"

"Are we supposed to write up reports on what we do? You know, nearly getting eaten, that kind of thing."

Connor nodded, grimacing. "Loads of paperwork," he confirmed. "We all write up our version of events at each anomaly, add any further thoughts and comments, then we all review each others reports – that was your idea by the way, thank you very much – before they get submitted to Lester and Leek. It's all in the computer, so you can take a look at what's been done before. Then there's all the research projects," he ploughed on relentlessly. "Lester wants everything documented and kept as up to date as possible – it's all cross-referenced and keyword indexed."

"Can I take it as read that I'm concentrating on the creatures?" Cutter asked.

"Yeah, Stephen and Abby too. You all have your own areas of interest, but you keep tabs on what the others are up to."

Cutter was surprised when Connor stopped there, apparently not intending to bring up his own projects. He was probably about to step out into that minefield again, but… "Am I allowed to know what you're working on?" he asked carefully. "I promise not to get over-excited this time." He thought he'd blown it again when he saw Connor's jaw clench and his hands tighten on the wheel. "Forget I asked," he said hurriedly.

Connor was silent for several moments, then reluctantly revealed, "I'm building a remote-controlled mini rover. It's got a video camera and atmospheric sensors, and the wireless feed can be picked up by a laptop and viewed in real time. I thought it might be useful to see what's on the other side of an anomaly before anyone has to go through. I started thinking after we sent the pterosaur back – what if the ground level isn't the same on both sides of the anomaly? Ground level on our side might be 100 feet up in the air or 30 feet under water on the other side. Without knowing what's there you could step out into a swamp or a lava flow, or a even a cloud of toxic volcanic fumes."

Cutter was speechless, mouth agape. It was such a simple and obvious idea he couldn't understand why no one in his timeline had thought of it.

"What?" asked Connor defensively, nervous of a repeat of Cutter's earlier outburst.

"Connor, that's… that's brilliant!" Cutter exclaimed.

For some reason Connor just looked stunned. "You really think it's a good idea?" he asked suspiciously. "You don't think I'm wasting my time?"

"It could save lives and help with all kinds of research. It's a fantastic idea." Cutter enthused. He noticed the look of uncertainty on Connor's face and understanding dawned. "I take it your Cutter didn't approve?"

"No," Connor said shortly, his tone indicating that the subject should be dropped.

Well, that was obviously the end of that discussion and Cutter decided it was better not to pursue it. He racked his tired brain for a safer subject, and realised they hadn't finished an earlier conversation. "So what's the story with Abby?"

Connor did a double take at the abrupt change of topic, then brightened and said gleefully, "Resigned from her job at the zoo. Told them she was a lizard girl, and that elephant dung just didn't do it for her."

- - - - - - - -

TBC

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	8. Chapter 8

**Chapter 8**

"_I don't like this."_

:

Connor turned into a side street and pulled up as close as he could to a familiar front door. "Here we are, Home Sweet Home," he said cheerfully, turning off the engine and pulling out the key.

Cutter sat transfixed. It was the same house he'd left, what? Was it only yesterday? It felt like a lifetime ago. He stared through the windscreen and experienced a momentary flash of double vision - his home overlaid with a house that belonged to a stranger. But they were one and the same.

The sickeningly familiar feeling of panic started creeping up on him again and he closed his eyes, breathing deeply in an effort to slow his heart rate. He was getting so tired of this – the constant fear and uncertainty. If he didn't get to grips with his new reality soon the stress would kill him before any creature got the chance.

"Professor?"

Cutter felt a hand on his shoulder and opened his eyes to see Connor looking at him with concern.

"I'm all right. Let's just get inside, OK?"

They both stepped out and there was a beep as Connor locked the doors remotely. They met at the front of the truck and Connor handed over the bunch of keys.

Cutter approached the door with trepidation. He felt like he was about to do something illegal, like breaking and entering. Only, it was his house and he had the key. Didn't stop him from feeling like the he was about to be apprehended for being a fraud though. His hand trembled as he twisted the key in the lock. It wasn't until he had opened the door and was about to step over the threshold that he realised he was alone. He turned and saw that Connor was still standing by the truck, mobile phone in hand.

"Connor?"

"Just calling a cab." Connor waved his phone around to indicate his intentions. "Time for all good palaeontologists to be in bed, right?" he said with false cheerfulness. "You get some sleep - I'll wait out here."

Alarm bells started ringing in Cutter's head, but he was too damn tired to figure out what Connor's problem was this time. However, there was one thing he was absolutely sure about. "It's Friday night," he said.

"Friday, yeah," echoed Connor. "So?"

"So... it'll be a least an hour's wait for a cab. Now, why don't you come inside before you catch your death. That kind of paperwork I really don't need."

Connor shifted nervously from foot to foot, looking anywhere but at Cutter. He was obviously torn between politeness and wanting to be anywhere else.

Cutter didn't know what was going on but he was starting to get a bad feeling. There was only one more thing he could try. "Connor," he said as patiently as he could, "I'm not him."

That got a reaction, not doubt about it. Connor started, looking momentarily confused. "Not him. Right. I knew that," he muttered. "Right. So, er, cup of tea then?" The question was asked a bit too brightly, but at least he was moving.

"And something to eat," Cutter added, leading the way indoors and switching on lights as he went.

And yet another conundrum to add to his list – what the Hell was up with Connor and the other Cutter?

- - - - - - - -

TBC

- - - - - - - -


	9. Chapter 9

**Chapter 9**

"_Home."_

:

The kitchen was at the end of the hall. Cutter gestured to the still jittery Connor that he should take a seat at the table while he got the kettle on and searched the fridge. "That's just weird," he commented, too tired to be shocked by anything else at this point.

"What is?" There was the scrape of a chair on the tile as Connor sat down.

"This." He grabbed some milk and shut the door. "My fridge was full. This guy doesn't seem to have had much interest in food."

"Really." Connor's response was oddly flat, but Cutter was too busy stuffing slices of bread into the toaster to pay much attention.

Opening a wall cupboard Cutter was confronted by another weird thing. He pulled out the pint of Scotch and examined the label. Not bad. He shrugged and set it aside on the counter, reaching for the mugs he'd been looking for.

"You take milk and sugar, right?" he asked over his shoulder.

The icy silence behind him was like a living thing.

"What?" Cutter looked around, trying to figure out the reason for Connor's sudden change of demeanour. Connor's eyes were riveted to the bottle of Scotch on the worktop. Suddenly everything fell into place and he knew exactly what Connor had had to put up with from the other Cutter. He leaned both hands on the edge of the counter, shaking his head in denial. "Oh no. No, no, no. Connor, I'm not like that." He picked up the bottle and turned around. "This isn't me – not any more." He took a step towards Connor but the other man shot out of his chair and out into the hall, backing up rapidly towards the front door.

Cutter was so surprised he halted in mid stride. "Connor, please," he begged. "I'm not him, remember? Look," he said, as he slowly stepped back, making sure he stayed in Connor's line of sight. He leaned over and dropped the bottle into the kitchen bin, where it landed with a dull thunk. "Please, can we just talk about this?"

Hand on the door lock, Connor paused. "What do you mean, 'not any more'?" he asked suspiciously.

The last thing Cutter wanted to do was to re-live some of the darkest days of his life, but Connor was owed an explanation. Actually, the other Cutter owed Connor an explanation, but he wasn't here anymore. He leaned back against the cupboards, trying to think of the best place to start.

"I've never been much of a drinker," Cutter began, "but… when Helen disappeared I hit the stuff pretty hard. The more time that passed without any news, the more I drank. The more I drank, the meaner I got. Stephen covered for me as best he could, but, I came this close to losing my job and every friend I had, including him." He held up a hand, thumb and forefinger only a fraction of an inch apart.

"So what happened?"

"Stephen happened. He tried to talk some sense into me but I wouldn't listen. Eventually even he'd had enough and decided that maybe a bit of reverse psychology would do the trick. He deliberately set out to get me wasted – said he was going to teach me a lesson. Only, it went too far… I got alcohol poisoning and ended up in hospital having my stomach pumped. Believe me, that's not something anyone would want to experience a second time."

"Stephen nearly killed you?" Connor asked incredulously.

Cutter shook his head. "Stephen saved my life, my job, and my reputation. It was months before I could even look at the stuff again. By then the funeral was long past and life was pretty much back to normal. I didn't need it anymore."

"Stephen told me that our Cutter only started drinking when Helen showed up again," Connor countered. "How do I know that you didn't do the same? That you're not like him?"

He racked his brain, but Cutter couldn't think of a single piece of evidence that would back up his claim. "I suppose you don't. There's not a thing I can say or do that will prove that what I'm saying is true. All I can do is give you my word. I'm not him," he reiterated.

It was up to Connor now. Whether he stayed or left was his decision. Cutter turned back to the kettle, switching it back on to re-heat the water. All he wanted was something to eat and some sleep. If he had to wait much longer he'd be taking a nose-dive at the kitchen floor.

"I can think of one thing that proves it."

Cutter jumped at the proximity of Connor's voice. He turned to find a very relaxed Connor leaning casually on the doorframe, hands in pockets.

"Do tell," Cutter responded carefully, reaching for some teabags and making the tea on autopilot while he waited for Connor to elaborate.

"I know for a fact that there's a bottle in your office. When you woke up I kept expecting you to ask for it, or send me on some errand so that you could have a swig in private. But you never did, never even looked at where it's hidden. I guess I knew then really, but old habits…" he finished quietly.

Cutter heard Connor sit down again and turned, mugs in hand. He cautiously approached the table to put the drinks down, but Connor didn't look even remotely skittish. He went back to rescue the toast.

"Sounds like you've had some experience in that area," Cutter prompted softly.

There was no response as he quickly buttered the cold toast and returned to the table with the plates, sitting down at last.

Connor had his hands wrapped around his mug and was staring at the table, frowning in thought.

"It's OK, you don't have to tell me." But there was one question knotting Cutter's insides. "Just answer me one thing. Did I hit you?"

Connor's head shot up. "No! No, you didn't. God, no."

Cutter's breath came out in a whoosh of relief. "Oh, thank God. You had me worried there. The way you kept running away from me, I thought…well, you know."

"I know," Connor nodded seriously, "but that wasn't because of you – that was just… habit. Besides," he added cheekily, "you'd have to catch me first!"

Conversation died out as they tucked into their supper.

"Hang on a minute," Cutter said suddenly. "When I came back from the Permian - I practically fell on my arse and none of you even tried to help me. That's why isn't it? You all thought I was raving drunk, that I'd somehow managed to sneak some booze through the anomaly. That Claudia Brown was some kind of alcohol-induced hallucination."

"Well, you were babbling about someone we'd never heard of," Connor observed, "and you did get a bit, er… physical… with Lester. What were we supposed to think?"

"Damn it. Your Cutter's left me with a Hell of a lot of fences to mend, hasn't he?" Cutter sighed with exasperation. He looked at his watch. It was close to midnight and his bed was definitely calling. "What time's your cab coming?"

"It's not. I never actually got round to calling them. I'll do it now," Connor said, pulling out his mobile.

"Don't bother," Cutter told him, "you look almost as tired as I feel. You can have the spare room. Come on."

They all but tossed the dirty crockery into the sink, and headed for the stairs. At the top Cutter rapidly pointed out various doors. "My room, bathroom, spare room. Goodnight Connor."

He turned to go into his own room, glad to see that this Cutter had a cleaner too. The sheets had been changed, and the bed made. Thankfully he wouldn't have to sleep with the scent of Helen on his pillow. He was about to shut the door when Connor called out.

"Hey."

"What?" Cutter asked patiently.

Connor mimed a boxer, fists raised, ducking and weaving. "Did you really bop a raptor on the nose?"

Cutter nodded, and shrugged. "Three's a crowd. Sleep well."

:

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TBC

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	10. Chapter 10

**Chapter 10**

:

"_When was life ever that simple?"_

:

Cutter tossed and turned. No matter how much he tried his mind just wouldn't shut down. 'Three's a crowd' – he'd got that right. Himself, Helen and Stephen. He'd told Stephen that what had happened in the past didn't matter, that they should just forget it, but he was a liar. It did matter – he just didn't know the details. Was it when Stephen was still a student of Helen's, or after Stephen had become Cutter's assistant? Had she deliberately set out to seduce Stephen _because _he worked for the husband who didn't pay her enough attention? How long had it lasted?

When he'd been awarded the Chair of Evolutionary Zoology his workload had increased dramatically. As well as teaching and research his job now included attracting the all-important outside funding needed by the University. He was unusually young to get a Professorship, and it was more of a strain on him and his relationships than he could have anticipated. There were times when he barely saw or spoke to Helen for days. And Stephen too, often the target of the new Professor's frustration and temper at that time, must have been feeling unappreciated. Was that when they had made a connection?

And had Stephen been the only one? Had Cutter been the laughing-stock of the University, everyone but him knowing of Helen's infidelities?

Maybe not. The Police were pretty thorough in their investigations when Helen vanished. Of course there had been some initial suspicions of Cutter's involvement in Helen's disappearance, but plenty of other people were interviewed as well. If there had been anyone else involved with her, surely something would have come out at the time?

They'd been having marital problems before he'd become a Professor, and if he was brutally honest with himself, the fault lay with both of them. They were both entrenched in their own research and own opinions, neither willing to give ground to the other. His new post had only made things worse. But when she'd disappeared he'd gradually forgotten their differences and elevated her on a pedestal, the embodiment of a dedicated scientist.

Probably just another one of the side affects of looking at the world through the bottom of a whiskey glass, he thought cynically, and pondering questions that would probably never be answered didn't really help with his current dilemma. What was he going to do about Stephen _now_?

Cutter had no intention of walking away from a palaeontologist's dream job, and he didn't know enough about the set-up at the ARC to know whether he had the power to fire Stephen or not. They all worked for Lester now, and he might not have the seniority to make that kind of decision.

Did he really want Stephen gone anyway? Their encounter with the raptors had proven that they could at least work together, although, yes, he had toyed briefly with the thought of letting one of the creatures have Stephen as a midnight snack. Then when the gun had jammed he'd been momentarily paralysed by thoughts of just desserts and divine retribution - it was Stephen's gun after all. But when all was said and done, Stephen had demonstrated that he still cared enough about Cutter to stop him wandering off into a Cretaceous sunset on a suicide mission.

Cutter sighed. Stephen was still useful and apparently willing to work with him. For the time being he would do nothing, see how things worked out and hope that they could both at least maintain a professional relationship. But they would never again be the close friends they had been. He might eventually be able to forgive, but he'd never forget.

Which left Helen, the Queen Bitch. What, if anything, could he do about her? She came and went in the same mysterious fashion as the anomalies themselves.

It was obvious to Cutter that Helen was out to prove something but she'd lost sight of who she was doing it for. It wasn't just about satisfying her own curiosity any more - she was out to show that she was the better scientist. To get Cutter to follow awestruck in her wake. When he'd repeatedly refused to be drawn in she'd turned to Stephen, trying to convince him that she still wanted him when all she wanted was some kind of validation of her 'work'. Validation that she would only truly accept from Cutter himself. Bottom line, it came down to nothing more than a battle of wills between estranged husband and wife. A domestic dispute played out on a grand scale.

Christ, did Stephen even realise that he was just a pawn in her sick games?

Lester had had Helen pegged as trouble from day one, the supercilious bastard. Much as he loathed the idea, Cutter would have to fill him in on her latest ambitions. A mad woman roaming the past, present _and_ future could only result in disaster. Maybe between them they could come up with a plan to lure her into their grasp. It wouldn't be easy though – the bitch was a master manipulator in her own right.

Manipulative and selfish. Ryan and his men had died because she was trying to further her own ambitions, but she hadn't seemed to care. It wasn't lost on Cutter that she'd left the scene of carnage with alacrity, her only apparent aims being to save herself first and to witness the outcome second. She'd thought that burying the men was a waste of time, that they would only be dug up again by some scavenger looking for food. It was taking 'scientific detachment' too far. As far as Cutter was concerned, there wasn't a shred of humanity left in her.

Cutter eventually fell into a restless sleep, dreaming of a rabid dog Stephen had had to put down on a field trip to the Narmada river valley. In his dream the dog had Helen's eyes.

:

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TBC

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	11. Chapter 11

**Chapter 11**

"_Where did that come from?"_

:

Cutter sat in his study waiting for his computer to boot up.

He'd woken early and had prowled the house, tidying up and moving things back where they belonged. The other Cutter had all the same things – they'd just been arranged slightly differently. After the initial unease at finding his possessions out of place, a little light domestic work had actually turned out to be quite therapeutic and Cutter was starting to feel as though this house was his home once more.

It was the same house he and Helen had bought together not long after they were married. The same house he'd decided to keep after Helen disappeared, wanting everything to be the same if she ever came back. He had grieved for her loss, but as a scientist he could never truly believe she was dead without some kind of proof.

It was the same house Helen had been in two nights ago.

Utterly mad and ruthless, the woman might as well have been a complete stranger to him. Oh, he'd picked up on some of her lies, but even he'd been taken in. Cutter shivered. The way she had kept coming on to him as if their marriage still mattered to her, then just as easily made a play for Stephen made him feel nauseous.

He didn't know if she still had her own set of keys, but he was changing the locks at the first opportunity. No way was Helen ever coming back into his home. If she wanted to get into a fight over it he'd rather sell the house and split the proceeds than have her under his roof again.

The computer pinged an email notification at him and he got down to work. There was nothing of interest in his inbox – just some junk mail and a reminder to renew a journal subscription.

He heard floorboards creak just before the door of the spare room opened across the landing. "'Morning Connor," he called out while checking his watch. Yes, technically it was still morning. A muffled grunt was the only response he received before he heard the bathroom door close. Cutter couldn't help smiling – Connor was definitely still in student mode as far as getting out of bed was concerned.

He hunted through the document folders. There were plenty of things he didn't recognise – and he knew he'd have to review everything in detail at some point – but there was nothing he could see that obviously related to the ARC and the anomalies, or the creatures they'd encountered.

"You won't find anything on there."

Cutter was on his feet, fists raised, before the comment even filtered through his brain. In front of him stood a rather startled looking towel-wrapped Connor, wide eyed and swallowing apprehensively.

The tableau remained frozen for several moments before Cutter's posture eased. "Don't do that!" he barked, one hand going to his chest, the other waving at Connor to relax. He sank back down onto his chair, panting heavily. "Jesus. If I make it through the week without having a heart attack it'll be a bloody miracle," he complained.

"I know the feeling," Connor shot back, "I think I just lost ten years off my life. Next time I see her I'm gonna ask Abby about the best way to approach a wild Scottish Professor in his natural habitat." As Connor turned to go Cutter heard him mutter, "Maybe she'll lend me one of the tranquiliser guns."

Cutter turned back to the computer, grinning.

:

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TBC

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	12. Chapter 12

**Chapter 12**

"_Don't you hate it when people bring their personal lives to work with them?"_

:

"Do you think Lester will let me work on the anomaly detector?"

Cutter jumped and swore. "What did I tell you?" he griped as he twisted to see Connor, now dressed, standing a safe distance away.

"What?" Connor asked innocently.

The little sod had crept up on him on purpose, Cutter was sure of it. He rolled his eyes and shook his head, reaching out to shut down the computer. "Keep this up and you won't be getting any breakfast," he threatened. "What did you mean when you said I wouldn't find anything on here?"

"Lester's orders - no information relating to the anomalies or the project to be kept outside the ARC," Connor informed him, "and if 'breakfast' means eating mouldy toast again I think I'll pass anyway, thanks."

Cutter stood and headed for the door, clapping Connor on the arm as he went past. "Your choice, but I went shopping while you were snoring your head off," he said as he started down the stairs, Connor trailing behind.

He'd driven around a little after his visit to the supermarket, just to see if anything had changed in his own neighbourhood. There had been a few local businesses he hadn't recognised, but because it had been a while since he'd really taken any notice of the area where he lived he couldn't be certain that the changes were due to the altered timeline. On the whole though it had looked reassuringly familiar.

"I do not snore!" Connor denied vehemently as he followed Cutter into the kitchen. "Do I?"

Cutter just winked and headed for the kettle.

:-:-:-:-:-:-:

A few minutes later they were seated at the table, Connor with a bowl of cereal and Cutter with a sandwich and salad, since he'd had breakfast earlier. Cups of coffee steamed gently nearby.

"So what do you think?" Connor asked between mouthfuls.

"About what?"

"About me working on the anomaly detector."

"I don't know. How does Lester feel about you working on the rover?"

"It wasn't Lester who had a problem with it," Connor responded obliquely, keeping his eyes on the bowl in front of him as he fished out the last few soggy flakes.

Cutter sighed with exasperation. "Are you going to tell me what happened, or are you going to leave me wandering around in this temporal minefield without a map? I can't help you if I don't know what's been going on," he reasoned. He didn't want to upset Connor again, but he was getting frustrated with dancing around what was obviously a major issue.

Connor's spoon clattered into the bowl, and he sat back, arms folded. "You didn't have a problem with the rover idea so much as with me working on it. You thought I should be continuing my studies. We had a lot of arguments about it," he admitted reluctantly, obviously still hurt by the other Cutter's intransigence.

"And?"

"And we ended up having a massive row, right in the middle of the ARC. Leek tried to intervene, but you gave him an earful. Actually that part was pretty funny," Conner chuckled, leaning forward again. "You have quite an extensive vocabulary when the mood strikes. I don't think Leek's going to forget it in a hurry – you embarrassed him in front of everybody." More seriously Connor added, "You want my advice, watch your back. Leek may come across as a bit of a wimp, but I don't trust him and neither did you."

Connor pushed the bowl away and picked up his coffee. "Anyway, Lester had us both hauled up to his office under military escort. That just wound you up even more and Lester threatened to sack you if you didn't promise to drop the whole subject immediately and apologise to me. That was a couple of weeks ago."

"Oh great. So everybody at the ARC thinks I'm a complete arse as well as an alcoholic. That's just wonderful."

"They don't think that," Connor hastened to reassure him, "they just think you're… a temperamental genius type. Highly strung. You know."

"You mean they think I'm a difficult bastard."

"Yeah, something like that," Connor agreed, grinning cheekily.

"I can live with that," Cutter laughed as he got to his feet. "Come on, let's take this into the other room."

:

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TBC

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	13. Chapter 13

**Chapter 13**

"_Under the circumstances I'd say I was doing pretty well."_

:

Cutter settled into his favourite armchair leaving Connor to make himself at home on the sofa.

"What makes you think that Lester will even listen to me?" Cutter asked. "Given the mess your Cutter's left me in, he might disregard anything I say."

"He'll listen, he's got to. I mean, the detector's a breakthrough for us, right?" Connor said earnestly.

"Right," Cutter nodded in agreement.

Connor grinned. "So, with any luck he'll think you're trying to make a peace offering and he'll do whatever you want just to keep us both quiet."

"Aye, you could be right at that. I'll see what I can do. But don't blame me if he tosses me in the brig for insubordination."

"He wouldn't do that, would he?" Connor asked in alarm.

"That was a joke, Connor," Cutter soothed. "More coffee?" he asked as he stood and held out his hand for Connor's mug.

"I knew that." Connor muttered, as he passed over his cup. "Besides, the ARC doesn't even have a brig!" he shouted at Cutter's retreating back.

:-:-:-:-:-:-:

When Cutter returned it was obvious Connor wanted to ask him something, but didn't quite know how. He passed Conner his coffee and took his seat.

"Something on your mind?" Cutter prompted.

Connor nodded, looking very serious. "We've been so busy, you've not said what happened in the Permian anomaly. What happened to Captain Ryan and his men?"

Cutter's good mood evaporated. He'd been trying not to think about what had happened at the camp. He'd been trying not to think about a lot of things. He was sure Lester wouldn't just leave the matter as it stood. There'd have to be some sort of inquest or internal investigation or something. He'd want to know what happened in excruciating detail.

"I can wait until you've written the report if you'd rather not talk about it," Connor offered, obviously concerned by Cutter's lack of response.

"No, it's okay," Cutter sighed. "Um… we'd just finished setting up camp when Helen called me over to take some snapshots of her. That's when I realised - she was wearing the same outfit as the pictures we brought back before. It was me, I took those pictures. That abandoned camp we found was ours. We'd returned years before that first trip. I tried to warn Ryan, but…"

"The skeleton you found?"

Cutter nodded grimly. "A future predator came out of nowhere. Got Ryan's men, got Ryan. Nearly got me. Then a gorgonopsid nearly got me. Gorgonopsid got the predator and its young instead. We buried the men and came back."

He swallowed thickly. He'd seen dead bodies before, but until Helen had brought the future predators back with her, he'd never seen someone die so violently right in front of him. Several someones. The predators scared the crap out of him.

"Hang on – that means that just because an anomaly keeps reappearing in the same place in our time, it doesn't necessarily mean that it's connected to the same time, or even the same place, on the other end," Connor reasoned. "Maybe I should concentrate on the rover after all. We can't make any assumptions about what's on the other side of any anomaly."

Cutter shook his head. "The detector first."

"But..."

"No, listen. No matter what, our priority has to be protecting people from anything that might come through an anomaly to our side. The best way to do that is for us to get to the anomalies as fast as possible."

Connor still didn't look convinced, so Cutter continued, "Look, I don't want to argue with you. Ultimately it's up the Lester anyway. Just… give it some thought, OK?"

After a few moments Connor nodded briefly. "OK," he said, then smiled. "I'll agree with you on the not arguing – it's a good plan."

:

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TBC

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	14. Chapter 14

**Chapter 14**

"_Claudia Brown."_

:

"Tell me about Claudia Brown. Who was she?"

'Was' being the operative word. Cutter didn't want to talk about it, but just as Connor had trusted Cutter with the truth about his own problems, he could do no less himself.

"She was our version of Leek, only a lot better looking. She was down to earth, bright, practical, and brave… and she had a wicked sense of humour when you got to know her."

She had teased him about sexual harassment after he'd kissed her at the golf hotel - even though they both knew that she'd been the one to kiss him first, way back at the beginning, before she'd even introduced herself.

"She was at the anomaly site before you went through to the Permian, wasn't she? You were expecting her to be there when you got back," Conner observed.

Cutter really didn't want to be having this conversation, it was too personal. Normally he'd only share something like this with Stephen, his best friend. But his relationship with Stephen had been changed forever by Helen's poisonous act of retribution and Connor was here, now, willing to listen.

"She tried to stop me going through the anomaly with the predators. Said she had a 'bad feeling' about it. I didn't listen - I thought she was just imagining things." Cutter's eyes lost focus as he replayed their final moments in his head. "She kissed me just before we went through. Right there in front of Lester and all of you… and Helen standing not three feet away." He stared down into his mug, and smiled wryly. "Like I said – brave woman." He lifted the mug in silent salute and drained the contents.

"Does Jenny Lewis really look like her?"

Rather than try to explain, Cutter twisted slightly in his seat in order to pull out his wallet. He opened it and stared briefly at the picture there before silently handing it over.

Connor's eyes widened in shock. "My God, it is her! That's Jenny!" he exclaimed.

"Claudia Brown," Cutter corrected with finality.

The uncomfortable silence was broken by the ringing of Connor's phone. He handed back the wallet and fished out his mobile.

"Abby? What's up?… He's what?... He's not supposed to do that... No, I know you know that. Can't you stop him?... Look, tell him I'll come over and help him."

"What's going on?" Cutter asked with concern.

Connor pulled the phone away from his ear. "Stephen wants to take a shower. He knows he's supposed to keep his foot dry for a few days, but Abby says he's insistent. She's tried to reason with him but he's being a bit…rude… about it."

Cutter was both hurt and relieved that Abby had called Connor for help to deal with Stephen's tantrum. The last thing he wanted to do was to get too involved with the man when their relationship was still balanced so precariously. He waggled his fingers indicating that Connor should pass over the phone.

"Abby, put Stephen on…" Taking a deep breath and winking at Connor, Cutter launched into tirade of his own - "Stephen James Hart! What are you doing to that poor girl?... She's right – body odour won't kill you… No, I won't tell her to leave you alone… Oh stop being such a baby, or do you want me to call your mother?"

Even Connor could hear the squawk of protest at that and raised an eyebrow at Cutter.

Cutter just grinned at him. "Right, so behave yourself. Connor's coming over to help you, so just try to be your usual charming self until he gets there, OK?" There was another loud squawk as he closed the phone and handed it back.

"His mother?" Connor asked, intrigued.

"Holy terror – always blames me when her 'darling boy' gets hurt, even when I'm on a different continent," Cutter laughed. "She's the only thing in this universe that really scares him. If she finds out he's injured it'll be chicken soup and bed rest for a month." After a moment of reflection he added, "Just remember that when you're dealing with him – he can be a stroppy bugger when he's sick. You might need to blackmail him into being sensible."

"Blackmail?" Connor mused, a definite twinkle of mischief in his eyes as he got to his feet. "I'll keep it in mind."

"It's always worked for me," Cutter admitted smugly as he trailed Connor to the front door. He pulled out his keys and wrestled the key to the truck free. "Here," he said, holding it out, "take the truck. Just remember…"

"If I break it, I'm paying for it," Conner interrupted. "I know. Thanks."

"I was going to say 'Just remember to pick me up on Monday morning', but that too." As Connor turned to go, he realised there was something else he needed to say. "Hey, Connor. Thank you."

"What for?"

"For believing me. For looking after me. For putting up with my crap for so long and still caring. For…everything."

Cutter found himself the surprised recipient of a brief but strong hug.

Connor stepped back looking embarrassed at his own impulsiveness. "Thanks - for being you and not him. If you need anything just… give me a call."

"I will," Cutter nodded. "Now, you'd better get going. Abby sounded pretty desperate." He pulled open the door and escorted Connor out. "Go and rescue her from the snarling beast."

As the young man made his way over to the truck, Cutter called out again. "Hey, Connor…"

"What?"

"…If he starts to sulk, just ignore him - it'll drive him nuts."

Connor laughed and waved before climbing into the truck.

Cutter stood in the doorway and watched until the Hilux turned a corner and was lost from sight. He stepped back inside and closed the door, leaning back against it. His smile faded and he rubbed his hands down his face.

Connor's presence had helped keep his ghosts at bay, but already he could feel them crowding in around him. Claudia, Helen, Stephen, Ryan… all waiting to pounce and keep him company the moment he let his guard down.

On Monday morning he'd be back at the ARC, pretending to know people he'd never met and trying to fit into his new life. But the worst thing of all, the very worst thing - worse even than losing Claudia - was that Jenny Lewis looked just like her. How could he mourn someone when their living, breathing image was going to be right in front of him every day?

:

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FINIS

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End file.
